


Dreams of the Gods

by Lupin_K



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: God - Freeform, Torture, Violence, dream - Freeform, elder - Freeform, power, prisoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:57:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lupin_K/pseuds/Lupin_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man wakes up in Skyrim, and begins questioning his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prisoner of Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> No major characters or sex planned as of yet, but I'm still running through this premise so don't rule anything out yet.

I don’t know how I got here, but somehow I am. I fell asleep in my bed in the real world last night, and woke up in Tamriel. The land of Nords and Dark Elves and Argonians and Khajitt. More than that, I woke up in the torture chamber of a High Elf in the Summerset Isles. So before you ask, YEAH, I'm pissed. She’s some magister or wizard or something. I don’t remember what it’s called, but apparently she has a lot of political power here. She’s also an idiot.

“Where did you come from Breton? How did you appear in one of my cells?” Her face showed nothing but contempt for me, her sneer did nothing but piss me off even more. I don't need this crap from people who don't even exist.

“I told you five times already. I. DON’T. KNOW. You imbecile.” My reply only deepened her sneer.

“Insulting me will get you nowhere good.” I thought these people were supposed to be eloquent. At least I don't have to be.

“It’ll make me feel better about having to put up with your stupid ass.” The sparks that flew from her hands to my chest were all the answer I got from her.

“You had to have come from somewhere. Now tell me. Where.” Her hands gripped a small knife, moving slowly under my chin. I breathed for a moment, glaring at this idiot woman.

“Again, I was asleep in my bed, in my home, in the real world last night. I wake up, I’m strapped to a table talking to an idiot. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what brought me here or why. I just want to leave. Is that really so hard to understand?" I cannot stress enough how many times I had told her this. And she still doesn't listen.

“How stupid do you think I am?” The woman spat at me, “The only other worlds are Planes of Oblivion, controlled by Deadric Princes. Other tha-“

“No. Wrong.” I interrupted. She glared at me. Apparently the hairless ape was not supposed to speak to her in such a way. “I know you’re wrong because none of this is real. All of this is a game, nothing here actually existed.. It never has and I still don’t believe it that it does.”

“Don’t believe what? That this isn't the real world?” The lady asked. I still couldn’t figure out how her ears stayed on like that, with the heat of the fire in the nearby grate and the amount of sweat. It’s very good cosmetics.

“Any of this.” I replied, exasperatedly waving my chained up hands around to show the rocky disgusting room. “None of this is real, from the ‘magic’ you keep shocking me with to those pointy ears. This is just some ridiculous joke, that I’m more than pissed off about. Now let. Me. Go.” I snarled the last words.

“Why do you think my ears aren’t real? Or magic? At what does 'pissed off' mean?” She asked. She seemed more interested in why I believed this was fake. At least she was taking me seriously now. Condescending asshat.

“Because Elves never existed. Neither did Orcs, or Khajit, or Argonians; and I’m not so gullible to just believe that those ears are real just because they’re there. And it’s more than possible for someone to make a glove -like the one you’re wearing" I gestured to her metal gauntlet with my face, "-that can shock someone. You don’t need magic for that, even if magic existed, which it doesn't.”

“So where do you believe you’re from? What world do you live in where elves never existed?” She’s coddling me, I can tell from her tone. She’s speaking to me like I’m an idiot child. She pulled a chair up beside the table I was strapped to and sat down. She was pretty, but more than stupid. I never did like blondes.

“America, you moron.” I replied. Her brow creased at the insult. “The country we’re in. Stop trying to convince me I’m in a land that doesn't really exist, and let me go.”

“I’m done with you.” She stood up straight, and motioned to one of the gold clad guards. “Take him back to his cell, but throw him in with one of the gentler prisoners, I’d like to speak with him later.”

A few minutes later, I was tossed into a cold, wet, dark cell next to a pointy eared man. I wouldn't have known he was there if it weren't for the red eyes and white hair.

“Psst, Breton.” He hissed at me. “What did they want? Those look like bad burns on your chest.” I glared at him, too tired, sore, and in pain to care what he thought. 

 

\-------

 

Weeks have passed. My captors keep asking me the same questions over and over. “Where did you come from? How did you appear in our cells?” And i keep giving them the same answers. They still don’t believe me, and I still can’t figure out how to get away. At least the woman in charge, or as in charge as I'm likely to see, likes to talk more than electrocute now. She still did it if I didn't talk quickly enough, but not as much.

The cell doors are strong iron, well taken care of. They don’t even creak when the guards open the doors. The walls are solid stone, wet and cold. There are very few torches, which leave the other cells in darkness as well as my own. The only time I really see light is when the guards come to take me, or toss in the half loaf of bread every few days. They don't take anyone else in for questioning, they just take me. I must be the only one who's interesting. I hear occasional moans and hisses and whispers from the other prisoners. It's amazing how high yours senses climb when you lose one. I smell that musty stench accompanied by reptiles, meaning Argonians. Low, guttural, angry growls counted at least five Khajit. But the feel of the prison, just shows that these cells are chock full of other people. If we all broke out at once there would be a serious riot. And apparently the only cell not full of angry prisoners is mine. 

My cellmate, Theron Dreth, is an old wizard nearing the end of his long life. He told me that he was arrested on his nine hundredth birthday, which was also the day he was removed from the Psijic Order, for his inability in magic. He was apparently good in minor spells, but not good enough to remain in the order. However in the days of conversation I’ve had with him I’ve found that he is very good with abstract thought. Although in the weeks since I arrived we stayed away from certain topics. He doesn’t even know my name, he just calls me Breton, the same as my captors. That all changed on the day we escaped. 

 

\-----

 

I woke up after a few more hours of torture, the shocking experience with my captors something I’m more than used to by now. I was in the cell, with Theron using what magic he could to heal my wounds. He shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t going to stop him. The white light arched from his fingers to my burnt skin and not for the first time I thought I was going slightly mad. 

"Maybe this is real." I thought, "And maybe that other life was just a dream. God I miss air conditioning."

“I don’t know why you’re so special Breton,” Theron whispered, the dark making his voice more felt than heard, “You didn’t even do anything. But you know these elves…” he let his sentence hang, trying to get me to join in the conversation.

“Better than you, I’d say.” I commented, sitting up slowly and placing my back against the cool wall. Theron stopped the spell, probably feeling too tired to continue. After all, we only had a half loaf of stale bread to share every few days.

“Oh really?” Theron’s curiosity was peaked, “How’s that? I’m 900 years old, and spent most of that in the Summerset Isles. How would a Breton, barely through any of his incredibly short life span know better than me?”

“Because,” I began, “None of this is real.” Theron looked up at that. His bright red eyes betrayed his skepticism in the dark. 

“How so?” His voice seemed a bit reserved and expectant. He’d been hoping I’d open up about this for awhile now. He only had to ask. 

“Where I come from, this is nothing but a story. Something other humans made up. None of this ever existed.” I had no doubt I might sound insane to Theron, but to his credit, he just went with it.

“Really? And what makes you think that none of this is real? What makes it a story?” His voice was soft, and careful. He was excited, definitely. Someone like him would love to have a new way to see the world.

“Well…you.” I tried not be insulting but that’s a bit difficult when you say that someone shouldn’t exist.

“Me? I make this unbelievable?” He was holding back laughter. And of course why shouldn’t he? It did sound ridiculous even as I said it. Still I couldn’t help but get angry.

“Well of course!” My voice croaked, “Elves have never existed. Neither have Orcs, Argonians, or Khajitt. It’s only ever been humans." I didn't bother keeping my voice down, and the residual noise of the other cells quieted enough to listen. "These peoples are just creations born of the imagination of another human being. This is just a game I used to play. None of it was real until I woke up in here a few weeks ago.” I heard several of the other inmates make angry noises at my convictions. A couple even hit the doors of their cells, from the sound of the ringing metal.

“Until you woke up?” Theron repeated. Like I said, he’s an odd thinker. He’s notices things that most people don’t.

“What are you onto?” I asked him.

“You said you went to sleep in your real world, and then woke up here. You’ve mentioned how you don’t dream over the past few weeks, either. Is it possible that all of this is just your dream? Maybe you made all of this up while you’re asleep, and you just haven’t woken up yet. In which case, you made all of this, and all of us. You’re God. You have all the power, and can do anything.” He sounded a bit hopeful. A bit excited. Good man, or mer, I guess. He's seen exactly what I've been trying to keep at the back of my mind for weeks, but was unwilling to consider without disproving everything else first. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I looked up to the faint outline of the cell door, raised my hand, and balled it into a fist. The cell door crumpled inward. Shrieking, the metal twisted and compacted into a solid ball. I let it go, and it dropped to the ground with a clang. I was still slumped against the wall of the cell, a good fifteen feet from the door.

“Theron,” I whispered, feeling my wounds heal, “You’re a mad genius.”


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Breton and Theron Dreth escape, and kinda force hell to break loose. At least a prison, so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember, I'm making this up as I go.

I stood up and walked free for the first time in God knows how many weeks. The constant noise of the prison block had stopped after I ripped away the cell doors with my will. My bare feet slapped against the stone floor of the cell block, and everywhere I turned I saw hands reaching out through the bars and pairs of glowing eyes staring at me. I turned and found a torch hanging on a wall in the distance, as I pulled it from the sconce I heard Theron following me closely, his footsteps short and quick, his breath coming out in fearful shaking gasps. 

"We shouldn't be dawdling." He whispered, "We should be leaving, and quickly. Even if you are a God, you only just figured this out. And I cannot stress this enough: Gods have been killed before. Especially young ones like you." 

"No." I spoke loudly, looking into each cell and assessing the condition of the prisoners within. It wasn't good. Many were either dead, or dying. And all of the cells, except the one I walked out of, were so cramped full of people that there was barely room to lay down. And all of them were pretty damn pissed to see me walking free. Alright, time for me to plan a little revenge. 

I walked back to the center of the cell block, and raised my voice to make sure everyone could hear me. "Alright listen up!" I shouted, "I'm leaving, and if you want to leave too you'll do as I say. I don't do magic, and I don't know how to fight with a weapon. But I have power, and control. I can heal your wounds, restore your body, and all I ask is that you follow me out of here. I've been tortured over and over for weeks by the people who run this dungeon, and I am not going to let them get away with that! Now you will either follow me, or I will leave you here to die in these cells. You understand?" My simple speech was met with the dying's equivalent of cheers. So I let them out the same way I let myself out, only I took care of every cell door at once, and the fashioned the iron into simple swords and axes for the newly healed inmates. 

Now healed, and armed, my band of prisoners crowded around me waiting for orders. Theron moved through the crowd, the only one to not take a weapon. He stood up straight, a good six inches taller than me and chuckled. "I never knew that I was bigger than a God." He smirked, reaching his hand out and clasping my shoulder. "You're going to need a name, calling you Breton will get confusing in the real world." Of course he was right, and looking around, it did make sense that I would need a name for my followers to call me by. A name to rally behind. 

Doesn't mean it has to be my real name. I looked around at everyone I had freed every Khajit, Orc, Wood Elf, Dark Elf, Nord, Imperial, Breton, and Argonian. There wasn't a single High Elf prisoner. Every one of them clad in ragged clothes and holding crude iron weapons. I was in control of almost one hundred prisoners and I was their God. But I would be getting more. I know that much. I have power, and I'm going to use it. I'm going to tear down the mountains of their Gods and Devils and rule this world until I finally woke up. I was going to be the Shadow of Creation, the one that kills Gods, Demons, and entire worlds. I will replace Sithis as their Death. 

"Marethyu." I said, looking at them all. "My name is Marethyu. Now, let's get out of this prison." My men and women cheered, rushing the stairs as the guards came down. I turned the ragged clothing to armor, letting the minds of my subjects dictate their clothing. They became clad in steel and leather, a few even going so far as to adorn themselves in Deadric and Sky Forged Steel. The four guards were massacred on the stairs, and as I blinked I moved to the torture chamber I'd spent weeks in. She was there. The idiot woman who liked electricity so much. Let's see how she liked it when she was on the receiving end. 

I waved my hand, and she flew upward into the wall. I snapped my fingers, and lightning coursed through her veins. She screamed. 

"Where do you come from?" I asked, snapping my fingers again. She screamed. 

"What is your name?" Snap. Lightning, and screams. 

"Why are you here?" Snap. Lightning. Screams. 

I only let it go for a couple seconds, but I know how long it feels when you're in that much pain. It feels like each bolt of electricity stays in you for days, boring scorching holes through you. I let her feel it just as much as she let me feel it. By the time I got to the third question my followers had reached the top of the stairs and made it into the torture chamber. They stopped when they saw the High Elf stuck on the wall and me snapping my fingers asking her the same inane questions she spent weeks asking me. 

After a few minutes I let her drop to the ground, limp and slightly smoking, with scorch marks all over her skin. I looked back at my people, all clad in armor. Except for Theron, who stood at the front, dressed in the light blue robes of an adept wizard. He looked from the tortured woman, to me in my rags, and to the group of people I'd sprung from jail. He wasn't happy, in fact he looked upset and more than a little disgusted. 

"I don't know what kind of God you're going to be, but I am beginning to regret meeting you." He said it without fear, and with more than a little anger. I looked back and saw that the woman was still unconscious. I closed my eyes, and for a moment I could feel the ache pumping in her body. And to be honest, I felt a bit sad about what I had done. Of course, not too bad seeing as how she had spent a few months doing the exact same to me; but still I felt a little bad. 

"You're right Theron," I said, "Maybe I need a conscience to balance out my power crazy." Theron looked a bit pleased at that. He gestured to the woman who I had almost killed and I took the hint. I brushed two fingers against her forehead and healed her. Slowly she stood up, afraid and in awe of my sudden power. Oh god I sound like a sith lord. For awhile she just stared at me, with my bare feet, threadbare rags and dirty greasy skin. 

This was the first time I'd noticed the way I'd looked in weeks. I decided to change my clothes, something a bit more familiar though. I don't really like armor and while I have the choice I might as well make myself look good. I snapped my fingers, and a tailored three piece black suit appeared instead of my raggedy clothes. My skin and hair was also clean now, I could feel that much. After a moment's thought I decided to slightly amend my attire, removing the coat and leaving the black vest while having the sleeves rolled up. Also cleaning my teeth while I was at it. The process took about three seconds, and the Hot Blonde Elf chick was still scared. Yeah she was attractive, doesn't mean I was any less pissed off at what she'd done. 

"What are you?" She asked me. This time, her tone wasn't so condescending. 

"See?" I smiled at her, "You can be nice. I would have told you everything you wanted to know months ago, if you'd just asked me nicely." I pulled up a couple chairs and had us sit. I told my small army to search for provisions for the next ten minutes while I talked with the Elf woman. "So go ahead," I grinned, "I bet you're dying to ask." She just stared at me for a moment, her blonde hair sticky with now cold sweat. 

Finally she opened her mouth and asked, "What are you?" 

"I'm dreaming." I stated, now condescending. "Theron pointed it out to me. Long story, just trust me." I stood up and started pacing the room, my black leather shoes knocking against the stone floor. "You see, I've been dreaming for the past...how long have I been here?" 

"Three months." She said, visibly freaked out. "Three months. I must be in a coma or something, if time in reality is moving at the same pace as it is here. But I'm getting off track." I stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "There's a thing called lucid dreaming, where you know you're dreaming; and you either can't or won't wake up. I'm one of the people who can't wake up; but the beauty of lucid dreaming is, now that I know this is all in my head, I can do anything I want. As far as you're concerned, I am the one and only God. And if you kill me, I either wake up, or I have a different dream and you die instead of me. How great is that? And there's always the chance that you can't kill me anyway."

"That's impossible." She muttered, staring at me like I was insane. "Anything you've done has just been incredibly advanced magic."

"Right." I nodded, "Except for one very important thing: I CAN'T DO MAGIC." I didn't care if my voice carried or not, I could kill or just plain stop anyone who tried to hurt me. "I also can't sword fight, or use any of the weapons that are very common to this world. But I do have an extremely vivid imagination, and I am more than willing to use it. Especially since I'm in a position where my imagination can be used. Immediately. To great effect."

"You mean to tell me you believe that you're a god? And that you're going to...what?" She asked me, more intrigued then afraid now. I guess I found another abstract thinker, like Theron. 

"Well, yes and no, to your first question. Inside my head, where we are, yes. In reality? No, I'm just a kid." I sat back down and stared into her bright yellow eyes. "And for your second question: I don't know. I'm going to try taking my new followers and building an empire. Then I'll try toppling all of your gods, both Aedra and Deadra." Her eyes widened when I said that. I could tell if she was surprised, or angry. I didn't care. "And then after that I have no idea. But all that's long term." My subjects starting to return to the torture chamber with bags full of gold, food, weapons, jewels, and a bunch of other stuff. "That didn't even take five minutes. Good work guys. So," I turned back to the woman, "What are you going to do next?"

"What do you mean?" She asked me, looking very confused. 

"I mean, you can either come with me, or you can stay here. It's completely up to you." She seemed nice enough to talk to, once you take away the lightning. And since it wasn't real anyway, I couldn't really hold it against her. Especially after I got revenge.

"You really think I'm going to pass up the chance to watch someone ascend to godhood?" She stood up too now, and again I was reminded of how I was not the tallest one there. She was taller than Theron. "Although, I have to ask, why offer to bring me along? I did torture you."

"I think you missed my inner monologue up above there, so I'll be brief. Since this is a dream, it didn't really happen and I got revenge anyway. We're cool dude." I smiled at her again, Trying not to seem creepy.

"I barely understood any of what you just said." She replied.

"Don't worry about it. Are you coming or not?" I asked.

"Sure." She answered.

"Ok." I turned back to my people, "Alright, let's go. Everyone close the doors." They all seemed confused, but they complied. The room was now very cramped, and I had to squeeze my way through to the other side. I crossed the fireplace, and around the murder table, and I slowly turned the handle of a large oak door. "Ladies and Gentlemen," I paused for dramatic effect, "let's find out where this door leads." I pulled a Howl's Moving Castle and set the door to 'random'. I opened it again, onto the side of a mountain. I stepped back from the door and face d the crowd. "So, does anyone recognize this place?"

"I do," one giant wrapped in steel announced, "That is Skyrim. I can see Whiterun off in the distance. We must be on the Throat of the World. But how?"

"I'm God, now let's go."


End file.
